Bastila's Last Fall
by NovemberNineteen
Summary: Bastila tries to deal with her fractured mind in the wake of Malak's torture and the battle at the Star Forge. One Shot.


**Soooo I have no idea where this came from. I'm pretty much always in an angsty mood though, so that's probably where. Hah. Enjoy! Oh and I don't own anything recognizable.**

Two months of memories lingered in her mind, dreams from another person, not _her_, not _real_. Pain and blood and hate, and a grinning metal mouth eating her from the inside out, peeling away her skin to see how she worked, reaching inside and twisting and burning and hollowing her out. She dreamed of endless hours without sleep laying on a metal table and straps so tight her blood could barely move and needles biting into her skin injecting her with hallucinations of limblessness and sightlessness and airlessness and insects in her veins, laying eggs, and burrowing out of her until she was riddled with holes and nothing was left but skin and bones. She was screaming and saying everything and anything but it never stopped and she died a hundred ways as her skin split and her insides leaked out but she was still alive, somehow alive but she didn't want to be, she would rather be dead and nothing and never existing. She saw her flaws and the places where she would crack if you hit her there too hard and he took something blunt and metal and broke her open and she was nothing, she was nothing but pain and self-hatred and hatred for everything for the universe for the Force that let her fall into this hell without anything to defend herself with. But they were dreams, just dreams. Even so, she felt her sense of self slowly drifting away, replaced by a fractured, manic madness.

It wasn't _her_, that wasn't _her_, but what was she anyway? Why did she even care anymore? She didn't care in her dreams, so why did she care now? Oh, right, because death and fear and cold and the jedi, and _Revan_. She slept, she dreamed in the dream the jedi were evil and wrong and they _hurt_ her. They were the reason for her pain and her fear and her dying and she had to find them and kill them and stop them from fucking her up and turning her inside out and tearing out her guts through her mouth, that had happened once when she died…

And she killed them. She killed a lot of them. But still the smiling, smirking metal was telling her that it wasn't enough, and she died again and they drank her blood as her veins slowly emptied and she died a little more with every drop they took and her skin wrinkled and her bones cracked and she was dead again. So she killed more and hated more and her red blade protected her until, in a different dream, she felt it cut into her neck and split her in half, right down the middle and this time she saw the jedi that did it and when she killed him she made sure he died like she did.

And then Revan found her and he shook her and woke her up. She was crying and shattered, but he held her and kept her together. She wanted to kill him too, but she remembered him. She remembered that he had felt for her and that he had showed her his deepest parts and she knew him completely and totally. He had loved her, and she felt it true and real through the Force. He would never cause her pain, and she trusted him enough to follow him back to the light of day.

But they were just dreams. Not _her. _Not _real_. They didn't happen, they couldn't have happen, she wouldn't have done those things. She could never harm an innocent… But the dreams said she did and she remembered fire and war and blood and gore and the jedi as he split in half and the lights in the force as they were extinguished never to relight ever ever ever again gone forever just like her claims of righteousness. And now she was watching herself from above her body and she was leaving it and she was trying to reach far away where nothing could touch her ever again and she could lose herself in the stars. She could lose herself in the stars and never have to think again of all the people who had died because of her. Because her mind wasn't strong enough to resist the dark. Because her mind had broken just as Malak had wanted, and it had split in half exactly along the little dotted line he drew on her psyche. And then she had lost half the pieces and she could never put it back together again.

Bastila stared at the black sky. There were no stars. Coruscants buildings let off too much light for even the brightest star to shine through. She looked down, through the space between buildings, and she couldn't see the ground. She'd left a note for Revan. He probably knew this was coming. The note was almost insensible; it was just her mind's mindless rambling. But she hadn't spoken in three weeks and it was more than he was expecting. She took a step into the air, and reached out to the Force and held herself there for a moment, before finally, finally, letting herself fall one last time.


End file.
